


Strictly Business

by quinn_rossi



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Escorts, Escort Mickey, Escort Service, Happy Ending, M/M, One Shot, Rich Ian, Sex Duh, Smut, Surprisingly Domestic, camboy mickey, explicit language because it's fucking shameless so what'd you expect, they're fucking soulmates OK?!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-30
Updated: 2018-03-30
Packaged: 2019-04-15 00:08:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14147607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quinn_rossi/pseuds/quinn_rossi
Summary: Ten dollars if you say my name as you come.Ten dollars for just saying someone’s name? Fuck yeah! “Shit, yeah, what’s your name,” Mickey muttered quietly but still loud enough for the shitty laptop he was camming with to pick his voice up.Ian.---Sometimes fate brings soulmates together. Other times it's an escort service, some whiskey, some wine, and sex in the middle of the night.





	Strictly Business

Mickey watched the chat as he stroked himself quicker and quicker. He was getting close to and was going to end the stream after he came because it was three in the fucking morning and he had shit to do today.

The chat was pretty much empty. He’d peaked at twenty viewers a few hours ago when he was taking requests. Now he was just getting off and not caring if he was getting views or not. He’d earned enough money tonight.

Now he was down to one viewer who was yet to type in the chat. Mickey didn’t give a shit if this was a human or a bot. 

He felt that telltale tingle and grunted knowing it was any second now that he’d finally get the orgasm he’d been working up to for way too long now. Then, the one mysterious viewer sent a message into the chat.

_Ten dollars if you say my name as you come._

Ten dollars for just saying someone’s name? Fuck yeah! “Shit, yeah, what’s your name,” Mickey muttered quietly but still loud enough for the shitty laptop he was camming with to pick his voice up.

_Ian._

Mickey nodded as he bit his lip. The little green notification popped up. _$5 from guest._

“Fu-” Mickey moaned and started to come, hot and thick into his hand. “Ian, fuck, Ian,” he murmured.

The notification popped up again, confirming the other five dollars had been sent, and ‘Ian’ was gone before Mickey even ended the stream.

***

Mickey didn’t put two and two together when a couple days later he received a text directing him on who and where to go to tonight.

Work (13:02): __  
Name: Ian Gallagher.  
Meet: 24 Wicksterthorn Street.  
Time: 19:00.  
Paid: $1500.  
Duration: 5 hours.  
Special Requests: Wear a suit. 

Work (13:03): _We’ll reimburse you for the suit if you need to rent one, Milkovich. He’s paying a lot for you and offering to pay more if needs be, so, please cater to what he wants if you wish to receive a higher percentage than usual._

“One fuckin’ thousand five hundred dollars for my ass!” Mickey announced triumphantly to his sister.

“Ew, who’d pay that much for your ugly ass?” Mandy stuck her tongue out at him.

“Ay, fuck you, loadsa people would pay that for me,” Mickey laughed and joined her on the couch. “The dude wants me to wear a fuckin’ suit and he’s paying for five hours.”

“Five hours? Jesus, your ass is gonna be sore,” she snickered.

Mickey flipped her off, even though he knew she was probably right. If you’re requesting five hours, it’s pretty clear you’re not just going to have one simple ten minute fuck.

They discussed this ‘Ian’ for a while longer. It made it easier to imagine what this guy was like and make up stories about him. Because even with three years escorting, he still got a sickening anxiety feeling whenever he knocked on a new clients door.

They easily concluded this guy was rich, too fucking rich if he’s paying that fucking much for one night with a fucking escort. They also guessed that this guy was probably into some form of roleplay if he was making Mickey wear a suit. Or maybe he just wanted his escort to look nice for the night.

“Ooh! Maybe he’ll take you out for a fancy dinner and wants you to look posh,” Mandy said.

“Yeah, I could do with some food that isn’t fuckin’ microwaved.”

“Hey! A chef is only as good as its ingredients, and you’re the one who thinks buying Skittles is more important than buying a fucking vegetable.”

“Uh, some Skittles are green. Vegetables are green. Conclusion: Skittles are vegetables. So suck on that asshole,” Mickey said matter-of-factly.

“Whatever,” she rolled her eyes. “Even if you get to eat proper food or not, you’re still gonna get your ass pounded so enjoy that shit.”

“Oh, I will,” Mickey retorted sarcastically.

Mandy smiled a little at her brother. “You know, I always knew you’d never earn your money morally. Drugs, I expected. Escorting, _gay_ escorting? Fucking camming? Never - never - expected that.”

“What do you mean I don’t earn my money morally? Both sides get what they want. I get money, they getta see my fuckin’ cock. Everyone’s happy.”

Mandy made a ridiculous fake gagging sound at that. “No one wants to see your dick!”

Mickey raised his brows and took a handful of green notes out of his jeans. “This says otherwise,” he smirked. “Now I gotta go buy a fuckin’ suit, see ya.”

***

Mickey checked himself out in the mirror. Yeah, he had to admit, he looked pretty fucking hot.

It was black suit, with a white shirt, red tie, and he’d also invested in a pair of cheap, yet smart, shoes. He had gelled his dark hair back and shaved the bit of scruff he was starting to get under his nose and chin.

He double checked the address and took a deep breath to prepare himself. He was ready. He cracked his knuckles and left his and Mandy’s apartment to go do his job.

When he arrived at the address he’d been given, he confirmed his and Mandy’s suspicions that this guy was rich. Just looking at this fucking castle of a house made him nervous.

OK, it wasn’t really a _castle_. But it was some grand as fuck house on the Northside. It was as good as a castle when compared to the two bed, eighteenth floor, shitty apartment he shared with his little sister.

He rang the doorbell and took a step back, waiting anxiously for whoever was going to be behind this door and who he’d have to spend the rest of the night with.

The door opened a few moments later.

Fuck.

He’s fucking hot.

Not that Mickey minded too much when his clients were hot, it often made it easier. But it always came with complications like the fact that the hot ones always showed up in dreams and took way too many drinks to forget about.

Now, this man stood in front of Mickey. He was also dressed in a suit, but a much, much, nicer suit than Mickey’s. It fit him better as well. The shirt was just the right size to hint at muscled arms and torso. He had fucking captivating eyes and a really fucking good smile too. He was tall and handsome and holy shit.

To top it all off, he was a ginger. Fuck, did Mickey have a thing for carrot tops.

“Milkovich?” the man asked, although who the fuck else would it be? “Come in, come in.”

Mickey followed him in and closed the door. He kept his eyes down on the ground, even though he really wanted to check out the house and check out this greek god of a man in front of him, but he had to be polite, especially to some rich client.

“Hey, look up,” he instructed.

Mickey did so and apologised. “Sorry, Sir.”

Calling people ‘Sir’ wasn’t something he usually did. But beautiful and rich clients were an exception because truthfully, he was intimidated.

The guy looked into his eyes and fucking laughed a little. “You can call me Ian.”

“Thank you,” Mickey looked back down again, feeling too hot under his intimate gaze. “Ian.”

“Hey, hey, look up,” Ian instructed again, but his voice was so soft and not like other people’s usually harsh, cold demands.

Mickey looked up again and bit his lip to stop him from saying anything he shouldn't. He had a million and one questions right now. But it’s rude to question customers.

“Beautiful,” he muttered as he gently stroked a thumb across Mickey’s cheek.

The gentle touch on his cheek made his whole face feel like it was on fire. He wanted to turn his head away from the touch, but that would be disrespectful. Mickey was afraid. Ian’s soft touch was making him feel something he couldn’t quite understand. And it’s shit like this that always ends up painful in the long run.

He just had to keep reminding himself, that he’s getting payed for this. Ian had payed for him for this night. It meant nothing and will never mean anything. This was his job.

“You can talk you know,” Ian chuckled a small bit. “I won’t bite.”

“Sorry, si- Ian.”

“Let’s get a drink in you,” Ian winked and beckoned him to follow through a corridor and a couple of rooms before settling in a room.

The room was much smaller and intimate than the others they had passed. It had a fireplace, some low light lamps, two red loveseats, and a couple of fancy, framed modern art on the wall.

Ian sat down and patted the space beside him for Mickey to sit too. The redhead leaned over to the coffee table to pour them both a glass of red wine.

“Thank you,” Mickey said as he accepted the glass.

Mickey could tell by the bottle that this was more than just cheap Walmart wine, so he sipped it politely even though he wanted to throw the whole thing back and get buzzed quicker.

Mickey was trying really hard not to cringe at the taste. He wasn’t used to wine. Ian let out a quiet chuckle before standing up and striding over a cabinet. He came back with a bottle of Jack Daniels in his hand.

“Here,” he said swapping Mickey’s glass for the bottle, their fingers brushing past each other and fuck - there was that buzz of electricity and pure heat that made Mickey want to pull away and push for more all at once. “This more your thing?”

“Yeah, yeah, thanks,” Mickey smiled and glanced around for a glass to put his drink in.

“You usually drink it out of the bottle, don’t you? It’s fine, go ahead.”

“Thanks,” Mickey took a good couple of mouthfuls, glad to have a familiar drink and glad to be able to now blame any feelings on alcohol. “Wait,” Mickey looked at him once he realised what he’d said, “how’d you know I drink this? Straight out of the fuckin’ bottle as well?”

Mickey bit his tongue hard at that. No cursing in front of fancy ass clients! But Ian just fucking grinned because he knew Mickey was getting more comfortable if he let both the swearing slip out and he just questioned him. Mickey had been so careful to even look at him before.

“I watch you stream sometimes. You’re one of the few men that make drinking cheap whiskey look hot.”

Mickey’s face burned up and filled with rosy blush at that, but obviously he’d blamed it on the alcohol. “I- uh. How did you know I was escorting as well?”

Fuck! He mentally scolded himself for continuing to question him.

“Lucky guess. Glad I found you,” Ian took another sip of his wine. “I don’t usually go round stalking guys that do porn and then fucking hire them.”

“It’s camming,” Mickey let slip out. Fuck! “Sorry, sorry! It’s just, it’s not fuckin’ porn, it’s different sorry.”

“You gotta stop apologising, Milkovich,” Ian grinned, unfazed by what Mickey thought was his completely disrespectful manner.

“Sorry, shit,” Mickey shook his head and swallowed some more JD. “Wait, what do you mean you don’t usually do this? You seem to know what you’re doing.”

“I’ve got no fucking clue what I’m doing. I’ve got too much cash and a little crush on some guy that streams at the most random times in the night. But you probably get that all the time, right?”

“Get what?”

“People falling in love with you? Not that I am in _love_ with you per se, but you’re hot and mysterious, sue me.”

“You- uh,” Mickey stammered. This guy liked him. And Mickey liked him too. And shit, he’d paid for five hours. All that time they could get to know each other or fuck each other, either one was probably going to be amazing. Don’t fall in love you fucking idiot. This is work. “Just doing my job, Ian.”

Ian smirked and looked down. He looked a little disappointed but he didn’t entirely believe him. “Of course it is. Sorry.”

“No, no, it’s fine. You payed a lot for my ass,” Mickey laughed a little. “So, I’ll be whatever you want me to be.”

“Thanks,” he said and thought for a moment. “Let’s not play strangers anymore then, I just want you to relax. Imagine you’re my husband if that helps.” Ian rest his hand on Mickey’s knee.

Mickey was tempted to take another swig of whiskey before replying, but a part of him wanted to be a lot more sober now. “OK, Ian,” he replied and rest his own hand on top of Ian’s, his own fingers falling perfectly - like they were made to fucking be - in the gaps between Ian’s fingers.

“Let’s go to the dining room, dinner should be ready now,” Ian stood up and Mickey followed, leaving the bottle behind on the table.

Ian showed him into the dining room. The long table in the middle was candlelit already and had the cutlery laid out for the two of them at one end.

Ian pulled out a chair and gestured for Mickey to sit down. “Take a seat, I’ll only a be a minute.”

Mickey sat down and let out a sigh he didn’t even know he was holding back when Ian left the room.

This was different to a normal job, yes. It was understandably different because this guy was rich as fuck, payed for much longer than most, and was treating him with an insane and unexpected amount of respect.

Sure, he’d been with people who liked to roleplay as couples or some other fetishes. But mainly it was just fucking, and next to no respect.

He also sometimes felt something with some clients. Like that spark that warmths your entire body when you touch. Because sometimes clients were hot and interesting and Mickey knows that in a normal situation, he’d probably approach them and see where it went from then.

But fucking hell, he’d never felt this _pure electricity_ with someone before. Just the soft touch of his hand made his legs feel like fucking jello and his stomach burst with the fluttering wings of butterflies and dragons.

Business! Work! He had to remind himself that this means nothing. Nothing! It means nothing and will lead to nothing. For now, he could roll with this. Being Ian’s husband for the night wasn’t the worst thing in the world.

“Sorry to keep you waiting, sauce needed a little extra spice,” Ian reappeared with two plates of a creamy pasta dish.

“No need to apologise. It looks amazing. Thank you,” Mickey smiled as Ian sat down on the corner seat beside him.

They ate in silence at first. Mickey didn’t want to ask questions or make conversation in fear of disrespecting him or screwing it up, so he kept his mouth shut.

“How long have you been doing por- ah, camming?” Ian asked. “If you don’t mind me asking.”

“No, it’s fine. Four years streaming. I’ve been escorting for three.”

“And - do you like it?”

That was a difficult question. Because yes, sometimes he did like it. It made him feel liberated and free with his sexuality. It made him confident at times. And money was a big part of it. But other times, it was degrading and he’d had his fair share of abuse.

“I suppose,” he replied. “Sometimes it’s fuckin’ exhausting, especially when I don’t have enough cash for rent or food, then I’ve really gotta force myself to turn on that camera and do weird shit for money.”

Ian chuckled a bit, which relaxed Mickey and he even smiled too. “Yeah, that guy last week who paid you twenty to read his shopping list out loud, weird shit.”

Mickey burst out laughing at the memory. “Fuck yeah, easy fuckin’ money when they request that kind of stuff. Week before that I did a private call with some dude who paid three hundred for like thirty fuckin’ minutes…”

Ian was laughing too but intently listening to Mickey’s stories, glad he seemed so much more comfortable now. “Three hundred? Thirty minutes? What weird shit was he after?”

“He wanted me to pretend to be his fuckin’ son. Not like a daddy kink - or some shit. He wanted me to be his literal teenage son. He made me play loud fuckin’ music and then he yelled at me for twenty minutes and claimed that I’m the reason he and my fake mom got a divorce.”

“What the fuck?” Ian guffawed. “Any more stories?”

“How long you got?” Mickey grinned.

Ian actually checked his watch and sighed. “Four hours?”

“Well… this one’s not as _weird_. There’s this woman, right, and women aren’t my ‘go to’ or nothing. But she pays a fuckton for Skype calls. Neither of us get off. She likes me fully dressed, whilst she lays in a fuckin’ bubbly bath and she tells me about her day and I just fuckin’ listen and occasionally agree with her when she tells me what a fuckin’ bitch Sharron is being.”

“That’s kinda sweet actually,” Ian said as he poured them both a glass of soave.

“This other dude I Skype with, he shows up once a month and pays like five hundred bucks to watch me clean my room. It’s actually pretty useful because I probably wouldn’t clean or tidy it if he wasn’t there to tell me to fuckin’ do so.”

“Holy shit, ha ha. I don’t know why I’ve never asked for a private session with you. They seem like a lot of fun.”

“So, uh, how often do you watch?” Mickey asked, blush creeping onto his face.

“I check to see if you’re on most nights really. I still can’t figure out your schedule though.”

“My schedule is just whenever I’m fuckin’ horny and or need money.”

“Well,” Ian said reaching in his pocket to pull out and show Mickey his phone. “You could always give me your number and text me when you’re on, I’m a pretty good tipper.”

Mickey wanted to say yes. But he didn’t think he could trust himself with Ian’s number and not push their relationship any further than escorting and camming.

Say no. Say no. He mentally repeated to himself but his hand had a mind of its own, reaching out to take his phone and then his mouth seemed to also have a mind of its own. “OK.”

Ian smirked and waited patiently for Mickey to put his number in. Mickey filled out the contact and set the contact name as his username to remind himself this was work and nothing more.

When he handed the phone back he had to remind them both. “Strictly business?”

“Strictly business,” Ian repeated but had that damn mischievous glint in his eye that said so much more.

They talked for a couple of hours more. Mickey told stories about some of the many weird requests he’d got and even confided in him with short extracts from his childhood. Mickey then listened intently as Ian told him about this interior design and property flipping business that currently had offices in Illinois, Ohio, New York, Wisconsin, Missouri and Iowa. He also told him about the plans to set up in California and start building business in the West.

“There’s lots of managers of course, but the top ones, including me, would have to live over there for a good few months to get it kick started.”

“I went to college in Los Angeles actually, before I dropped out of that shit,” Mickey scoffed a little at the memory.

“Why’d you go that far for college?”

“Daddy issues. Don’t get me wrong though, I had a pretty fuckin’ good time. There’s some nice places there.”

“Well if we do end up setting up offices there, you’ll have to recommend me some places, show me around. How much do you reckon it’ll cost to buy you for a few months?” Ian laughed.

“A fuckin’ million,” Mickey joked and laughed with him.

As the time passed and it reached quarter to twelve, Mickey knew it was going to happen. The sex. That’s usually what happens. Not that Mickey was particular dreading it with Ian. If anything, he was actually looking forward to see what this redhead was packing down there.

“Let’s take this upstairs, huh?” Ian offered, like Mickey was going to refuse that.

“Mhm,” Mickey nodded and followed him upstairs and into a beautiful, yet cozy and homelike, bedroom.

“Before we carry on, I need to know. What can I call you? You’re first name?” Ian asked.

Usually people called him ‘Milkovich’, or he’d come up with a fake name on the spot. But he felt the need to just give Ian whatever the fuck he wanted right now. “Mickey.”

“Mickey,” he repeated, testing the name on his lips and fuck did it make Mickey feel all sorts of things just hearing him say it.

“Ian,” Mickey said back, then it fucking clicked. “Oh shit, you’re the dude who paid me ten bucks to say your name a few days ago.”

“Guilty,” Ian chuckled as draped his jacket over a chair and offered to take Mickey’s.

Mickey stood awkwardly in the room as he watched Ian, just a couple of feet away from him, take off his tie. Ian looked up at him, capturing his eyes and smirked.

“Wanna take my shirt off for me?”

“Why? You’re fingers fuckin’ broken or something?” Mickey laughed and walked over to start unbuttoning his shirt.

He wasn’t even bothered that that wasn’t polite or respectful, because Ian wanted the real him, and Mickey was relaxed enough with him to give him just that.

Every little sound each button made as it came undone, and revealed just a little bit more skin, sent sparks throughout his body and heat that went straight to his dick. Ian shrugged the shirt off once all the buttons were finished and that smug asshole knew he was hot and knew exactly what he was doing to Mickey right now.

“May I?” Ian gently tapped Mickey’s tie.

“Please,” Mickey accidentally begged, and mentally cursed himself for sounding so pathetic.

Ian’s fingers were long and careful as he took Mickey’s tie off with ease and began to work on the buttons. Mickey was most definitely _not_ thinking about them fingers inside of him. Mickey’s shirt came off and joined Ian’s on the floor.

“Pants,” Ian said as he slid his own off. Mickey obeyed and glanced up to Ian with his finger under the waistband of his underwear. “Leave them on.”

Ian took Mickey’s hand and led him to the bed. They both settled underneath the sheets lying on their backs and only their hands were touching. Ian shuffled closer and Mickey did the same. Mickey got the hint and cuddled himself close to Ian, making his whole body so pleasantly warm.

There was silence for a moment before Ian sighed sadly. “Midnight.”

“Oh,” Mickey felt deflated all of sudden. It was a wake up call back to reality. It reminded him that all these feeling were nothing. “I- I can go if you want,” Mickey stammered as he started to move out from Ian’s hold.

Ian looked up at Mickey, who was now sat up, and softly said, “you can also stay if you want. What do you want, Mickey?”

Mickey bit his lip and looked down at Ian before resting a hand on his chest and sighing, “ _you_.”

Neither of them quite knew who initiated it. But their lips were together in an instant. Soft lips, gentle tongue, and careful teeth, perfectly clashing together causing both their bodies to light on fire.

Mickey moaned into the kiss as Ian pulled away.

“What happened to this being ‘strictly business’, huh?” Ian chuckled.

“I’m off-duty now, who knows what’ll happen,” Mickey muttered and let himself be rolled onto his back and Ian climb on top of him.

They continued to make out, more passionately and needingly than before. Ian’s hips perfectly grinded down on Mickey’s giving them both a good amount of friction but just not _enough_.

Ian's hand slipped down to tug Mickey’s boxers off and do the same with his own. Mickey sighed at that and pulled Ian back down to kiss him again.

Ian reached out for lube and slicked two of his fingers up whilst Mickey watched in anticipation.

Mickey was tempted to make a snarky comment telling him to hurry the fuck up because he was horny and needy, but slow, gentle sex wasn't something he got often so he was curious.

Ian worked one finger in him at first. Pushing in and out and bending it a little every now and then to work every little moan and gasp out of Mickey. Then came the second finger. He went faster this time and spread his fingers a couple of times, which made Mickey absolutely fucking speechless when he brushed past that fucking spot that made him see stars.

“How’re you?” Ian muttered, his mouth just ghosting Mickey’s so he could breathe him in.

“Good, so fuckin’ good. Get in me, please” Mickey moaned whilst slowly fucking himself on Ian's stilled fingers.

Ian pulled his fingers out and quickly put a rubber on and slicked his cock up with some more lube.

“You OK if we go slow?” Ian bit his lip softly and asked.

“Ian, anything, anything for you,” Mickey let slip out, his mouth always spoke before his mind realised what the fuck it was doing. Maybe, however, he did mean it.

Ian moved a hand to Mickey’s thigh to pull his leg up onto his hip for a better angle. He lined his dick up with Mickey’s wet hole and pushed in slowly.

“ _Yes_ ,” Mickey sighed as Ian stretched him out, pushing in inch by fucking inch.

Mickey’s eyes closed so he could focus on Ian pushing into him, making him moan loudly.

Once he bottomed out, his whole dick buried deep in Mickey’s ass, he pulled out halfway and then slowly thrust his hips forward again.

“Fuck, Mickey, you’re fucking beautiful.”

“Ian, fuck.”

He thrust a few more times, the pace slow but fucking amazing. Ian groaned at the sight of Mickey hot and needy underneath him and then he realised what he really wanted to see.

Ian pulled himself all the way out and Mickey fucking whimpered. Ian flipped them over and sat up. resting his back against the headboard.

Mickey knew exactly what he wanted. He sank himself down onto Ian's cock, his hands in Ian’s hair as he sloppily kissed him.

“Fuck-” Ian sighed. “You’re so - so - fucking tight, fuck.”

Mickey stuck to what Ian said for a while, going slow. He sat up and back down again slowly and Ian's hips met him a couple of times.

“ _Mm, fuck_ ,” Mickey moaned.

Ian moved a little to sit up higher to stop his neck from aching, and clearly this was a better angle judging by that sinful sound that escaped Mickey’s lips. Ian’s short fingernails marked up and down Mickey’s back as Mickey marked Ian’s neck with bites that he’d kiss and suck better.

Mickey’s hands were back in Ian’s orange hair, gripping a little tightly to steady himself as he bounced up and down on his lap. Ian’s hands slipped from Mickey’s back to grasp his ass and squeeze it as he moved.

“Ian - oh, fuck,” Mickey groaned and his head lolled forward.

“Mhm, Mickey, _Mick_.”

Going slow was long forgotten now as they reached closer to their release.

Ian's hips snapped up in time with Mickey’s movement. His cock hit his prostate over and over again, driving Mickey to damn near insanity. Mickey rode him expertly whilst his mouth kissed whatever skin he could reach.

Ian wrapped his fingers around Mickey’s cock and fervently pumped it and Mickey was quickly coming hard between them. Ian followed too, hotly filling up the condom as Mickey continued to roll his hips a little as he came.

They panted and tried to catch their breath. Sticky foreheads stuck together as they breathed in each other's air.

Mickey felt the sudden urge to tell Ian he loved him. What the fuck? Why the fuck? Luckily he bit his tongue and prayed for the feeling to go away.

Mickey had meaningless sex for a living, but this was far from it.

He took himself off Ian and into the space beside him. Mickey rested his head on Ian’s shoulder, smiling a little when he felt Ian’s arm wrap around him.

“Tell me you felt that too?” Ian whispered to him.

“Felt what?” Mickey replied despite having a strong feeling he knew what he meant.

“That was more than just sex. Right?”

Don't do it, Mickey. Don't be an idiot and fall in love. This is your job.

But like he said, he was off-duty, work finished an hour ago. So maybe this was something.

“I know - I know it's your job to have sex and make people feel special,” Ian spoke like he'd read his mind. “But there's something about you, Mickey.”

“I'm off-duty, that right there wasn't my fuckin’ shitty job.”

“That was more than just sex then. Right?” Ian repeated.

And despite all the times he’d scolded himself and reminded himself that this was strictly business, he sighed. “Yes.”

Maybe, just maybe, that bullshit about people being made for each other like soulmates, just maybe that was true.

And three years later, on a Sunday night, in the kitchen of their LA apartment, when Ian gets down on one knee, Mickey knows that soulmate bullshit was the truest fucking bullshit he'd ever heard.

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this idea in my head for too long and figured I'd take a day off writing my bigger fic (https://archiveofourown.org/works/13162494/chapters/30103836 ) and try something shorter.
> 
> I really enjoyed writing this, even though it got a little longer than intended, and I hope you enjoyed reading it!
> 
> I think I'd love to write more shorter things in the future so feel free to give any prompts of yours or any you've seen and would like to happen in the comments! <3


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